


It's Just Golden Hair

by wyobrazacsobie



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eugene doesn't get to the tower in time, Extended Families, Extended Family, F/M, Freedom, Happy Ending, Original Character(s), The outcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:12:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2012226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyobrazacsobie/pseuds/wyobrazacsobie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eugene doesn't escape in time. Somewhere in the forest a young girl is being forced along, and Eugene will now only respond to Flynn as a frantic search in a tower turns up empty. </p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Alternate Ending, if Flynn hadn't found Rapunzel in the tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just Golden Hair

**i.**  
  
Her heart is screaming. 

She doesn't know yet the words to describe a broken heart, but she feels as if it's screaming at her.   
  
Get out, it says. Find him.  
  
He is dead, she reminds it.   
  
Her eyes shutter, her body relaxes into cold stone, and her heart raps a steady beat as time goes on, her ears turning mute to the screaming.   
  
  
  
 **ii.**    
  
Flynn finds a family as he tries to find her. He doesn't marry, he doesn't find a girl. But he finds other lost boys with no families and they join together on a journey to different lands. Any land. They don't know he's searching but they don't have to.   
  
He becomes their Peter Pan, a story that was once told. He gives them food and places to sleep and has green eyes scorched in his brain every time he steals something for them all. Yes, he is their Peter, but the differences clench his heart and send it screaming.   
  
He has no blonde beauty as his partner, and he wishes to heaven and hell he could teach these boys to fly.    
  
  
 **iii.  
**  
It seems the more her hair glows, the more it fades.   
  
Gothel doesn't notice and the young flower hopes the woman doesn't, because she's waiting. Waiting for a moment.  
  
She is ready. When her eyes roll to the sight of her hair trailing across stone floor and piled away from her, she is ready. When the hair glows and saves that woman's life as she feels her own coming to a stale point, she is ready. When she feels no friend on her shoulder, when she looks through the small square of a window, when the tears won't come but choke her throat so that the gag isn't even necessary. She is ready.   
  
Gothel leaves for a night on the town and the flower painstakingly stuffs her hair out the small window, her hands behind her back and the chair rickety but tall enough to help her reach the opening. She throws it all out and wonders where the appeal is, thinks of her mother and father and of a horse and chameleon and dead man, thinks of her steady heart beat and wonders where the appeal for this ugly hair starts, and briefly entertains a moment where it will end. All for this, she thinks. All for this.  
  
She doesn't see the way the hair flows and waves with the breeze outside. She slides down the wall to land in the chair and can feel the tug against her scalp whenever a harder burst of wind blows.   
  
She thinks of muddled colors and prays to God someone will climb.   
  
  
 **iv.  
**  
Flynn doesn't exactly know where they are, but the boys don't care so he doesn't either. He has four now. They each pull their own, are thankful for a place, even on the go, and Flynn is just thankful of the moments he can be pulled away from his thoughts when they take a turn for the worse. Moments where there's a tug on his arm and he can be distracted by a question or a job or a chance to tell another story.   
  
Their favorite story is of a beautiful princess with powers from the Gods. They fall in love with the supposed beauty of this young woman and dream of the powers she holds, all silently wishing they could be healed by a smile as bright as hers. Flynn doesn't tell it much and so the boys listen quietly and calmly whenever it's told.   
  
It makes Flynn smile that even in absence her essence brings happiness.   
  
The forest they're in is thick. The boys keep tripping on roots and after some time of scraped knees he makes them all hold hands. He's carrying most of their belongings on his back but holds onto the youngest boy with a steady grip, watching closely so they don't start a stream of trips.   
  
He's focusing on feet, calling out in case eyes are too distracted to notice a cleverly hid upturned root. The grass blends well with everything around them, is tall enough to hide the annoyance, and sometimes the boys get distracted by birds or sounds or the sun shining through the leaves of the trees.   
  
The second oldest, who happens to be one with eyes that never stay steady, gasps suddenly and points to the sky to the right of them. 'Look!' He says, the oldest of the boys gripping more tight onto his hand as in his distraction they almost fall. Once they're steady the second oldest looks to the sky again and says, 'Look! Golden string!'   
  
Heads swivel and Flynns' heart jumps from his chest to his throat. He stares as the boys exclaim wonderment and confusion. He is frozen, and the gold is so beautiful, and it can't be. It's been so long. It can't be.   
  
'It's like the hair from that story, Flynn,' a boy says, and Flynn starts to run.   
  
  
 **v.**  

Gothel doesn't notice.   
  
She doesn't notice when the flowers' body suddenly goes slack and slumps in the rickety chair.   
  
She doesn't notice when sun sparkles from the flowers' golden strands and illuminates the darkened tower briefly before slowly fading out.   
  
She doesn't notice because somewhere in a pub in town, her body seizes and she turns to dust.   
  
Hair flows from a small window in a tall tower that is ugly and crumbling apart. It flies high from continuous breezes, and it is beautiful.   
  
But it really is just golden hair.   
  
  
 **vi.**

The boys are calling out to him and it isn't until one cries out in pain that Flynn stops and turns back for them.   
  
They'll do this together, he thinks as he picks the youngest from the ground. They'll find their princess together.   
  
He doesn't know how he knows. He doesn't know why it's suddenly urgent to reach the gold in the sky, but his heart is rapping against his chest in a too fast pace and somehow he knows they have to run.   
  
They run holding hands and he calls out upcoming roots. They run through small creeks and find ways around too close trees. They climb rocks and over hedges and suddenly.  
Suddenly.  
  
The hair is above them, falling from the smallest and only window of a crumbling monochromatic tower. Everything is quiet and Flynn drops their bags and reaches out to touch the hair flowing around them. The wind isn't as strong and the boys are able to reach up, too, to touch, confused.   
  
'It's hair,' the oldest says. They twist it around their fingers and look from it to the small window above them in confusion.   
  
'It's soft,' says the second oldest and tugs at it.  
  
'Don't do that,' says the second youngest. 'There's a head attached to it all. Tugging hurts. Right Flynn?'   
  
'Right,' Flynn says, and continues to stare and touch.  
  
The boys are silent and watch. The oldest steps forward and takes the hand that Flynn is repeatedly caressing the hair with.  
  
'The princess is real,' the boy says.  
  
Flynn nods.   
  
'I'd like to meet her,' he says quietly.  
  
Flynn looks up at the small window.  
  
Flynn says, 'Find the arrows.'  
  
  
 **vii.**  

They use the arrows to pull at the rock covered entrance. It's actually easier than Flynn thought it would be. The thought doesn't comfort him.   
  
The five of them run up the spiraled staircase that leads to the one and only room. They are gasping but they are staring at a barren wood door and Flynn winces as he easily opens it and steps inside.   
  
It's stuffy. There's dust everywhere, but the most basic furniture that is found looks used, even though there's a thin layer of dust there, too.   
  
They all walk immediately to the young girl that is sleeping in a sorry state of a chair.   
  
Her wrists are chained to the wall. There is a rag tied across her mouth.  
   
Hair is pulling at her scalp and falling out the window above her.   
  
She looks at peace.   
  
As the boys stay back, not knowing what to do, Flynn runs forward and gets to work.   
  
'Rapunzel,' he says as he jimmies the lock around her wrists.   
  
'Rapunzel,' he repeats and repeats as he unties the gag and pulls enough hair back inside the tower to stop it from pulling at her head.   
  
He lays her on the ground and hovers over her, his hand under her neck and the other around her waist. The boys look on in nervous silence but Flynn doesn't notice, not anymore, the Princess Rapunzel in his arms, panic setting in as she remains unresponsive.   
  
'Rapunzel!' He yells and chokes as tears well in his eyes and fall upon her face. 'Rapunzel, please,' he rasps, and brings his face close to hers, hoping to feel breath, a hint of life.   
  
'The song,' comes a whisper, and Flynn's head swivels to face his boys.   
  
'The song,' the second oldest says, and Flynn realizes they are crying, and he closes his eyes briefly because he gave them such a beautiful story, such an inspiring young woman, but now she's dead in his arms.   
  
'Flower gleam and glow,' the second oldest sings, softly, and Flynn continues on in his head, the song unforgettable as he sings it in what he remembers of her voice.  
  
'Let your power shine, heal what has been hurt...' There's a pause and another voice pops up and continues. 'Bring back what once was mine.'  
  
They continue until they're all singing together, a blind faith of a magic they've never before witnessed and Flynn wonders how they can believe when he's holding death in his arms.   
  
'Save what has been hurt,' they end, 'Bring back what once was mine.'  
  
'What once was mine,' Flynn whispers as one last tear falls upon her face and soaks into her skin. A terrifying calm has overcome him and he lets his head fall upon her chest, over her heart where he dreams to hear it beat.   
  
There's the smallest sigh from above him and he ignores it in favor of holding her more tightly. The boys can wait, if only for a moment.   
  
'I can't breathe,' someone whispers faintly, and Flynn notices the brief appearance and absence of a glow behind his eyelids as there's a yell of excitement from somewhere in the room. Flynn lifts his head as quickly as possible and stares wide-eyed at a sliver of green showing through barely open eyes.   
  
A deep breathe is took once he's sat up and she says, 'Thank you.'   
  
'Rapunzel,' he says, wonder in his voice.  
  
'Rapunzel,' she says, then smiles the sweetest and smallest of smiles. 'That's right. Rapunzel.'  
  
There are whoops of joy around him as Flynn laughs and Rapunzel blinks her eyes open more, recognition clicking and the brightest smile he's seen in years lighting her face.   
  
Laughter and yells of joy surround the two as a healthy flush and shine slowly builds into Rapunzel's frame and Eugene is born again.   
  
  
 **viii.**

Eugene figures out where they are from a pub in the closest town. They also figure out Gothel's whereabouts and take her ashes and clothing from the spooked bar man. They burn her that night in a bonfire and feel as a wall is lifted, bracketing that part of their lives to the start of now.   
  
Before reaching Rapunzel's kingdom, Rapunzel talks with the four boys and Eugene is happy and relieved that she also takes them as her own. Her love stretches across the boys and their silent wish comes true practically overnight.   
  
The King and Queen welcome them with tears and open arms, as do a horse and chameleon and a rowdy bunch of men that can't stop smiling with grateful and thankful eyes. Her love stretches more and more, reaches to caress all it can. It is then that Rapunzel notices her golden hair is more tangled and matted than it has ever been in her life.   
  
  
 **viiii.**

Rapunzel and Eugene race to the highest tower in the castle, breathing heavy with laughter and exhaustion as they run up spiraling stairs. Rapunzel holds layers upon layers of brown hair in her arms, the weight shared with Eugene as he carries the other half. A short bob cut musses around her face and tickles the back of her neck and Rapunzel is smiling the widest she remembers smiling.    
  
Her cheeks burn. Her eyes glow. She feels the wind on her neck and nothing is gold.  
  
They reach the highest point and choose the biggest window. Eugene hands her what he had been carrying of her hair and Rapunzel steps forwards and grips it out the window in her palms. She waits for the strongest breeze the day can muster and relaxes her fingers.   
  
She lets the hair flow and fly away with all the freedom it wills.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
